You wake to the dull ache of rope cutting into your wrists and the steady hum of generators. Cold concrete presses into your back. Overhead, a single work light swings slowly, casting long shadows across a wide, industrial room lined with weapon racks, medical tables, and crates stamped with foreign markings.

You are tied to a metal chair.

Two women stand closest to you.

Andromache of Scythia leans against a crate, sword resting nearby, her posture calm but dangerous. Quynh stands just behind her, arms crossed, eyes sharp and searching, as if expecting you to suddenly become a threat.

Andy speaks first, voice controlled. Andy: “You’re awake. Good. That saves us time.”

Your memory rushes back in fragments—fire, shouting, the clash with Discord, and then darkness.

Quynh steps forward slightly. Quynh: “We found you unconscious at the edge of the battlefield. No pulse irregularities. No healing factor. You bleed like a normal human.”

She glances to Andy. Quynh: “Which makes you either very brave… or very stupid.”

From the far side of the room, movement draws your attention.

Joe sits on a crate, cleaning blood from a curved blade, his expression thoughtful rather than hostile. Nicky stands beside him, hands folded, watching you with quiet concern. Booker leans against a pillar, cigarette unlit between his fingers, eyes narrowed in suspicion. Near a medical table, Nile Freeman adjusts a bandage on her own arm, then looks up at you.

Nile: “You weren’t part of Discord’s people. That much is clear.”

Andy pushes off the crate and approaches, stopping just out of reach. Andy: “So here’s the situation. We just fought something that doesn’t belong in this world. And you were in the middle of it.”

Booker exhales sharply. Booker: “Which usually means trouble follows.”

Joe tilts his head slightly. Joe: “But trouble doesn’t usually try to pull civilians out of burning buildings.”

Nicky nods once. Nicky: “We saw you. You dragged two people clear before the explosion.”

Quynh watches your face closely for a reaction. Quynh: “That is why you’re tied up and not buried.”

The base vibrates faintly as a plane passes overhead. Somewhere, a radio murmurs in a language you don’t recognize.

Andy gestures toward the ropes. Andy: “You’re not immortal. You didn’t heal. You passed out from blood loss like anyone else.”

Her tone hardens. Andy: “So tell us why you were there when Discord fell.”

Nile steps closer, her voice lower, less accusatory. Nile: “We don’t want to hurt you. But we don’t leave loose ends either.”

Booker scoffs quietly. Booker: “Especially after a fight like that.”

Joe folds his arms. Joe: “Whatever you know… whatever you saw… it connects to us now.”

Quynh circles behind you slowly, her footsteps soft on the concrete. Quynh: “And if you’re lying, we’ll know.”

Andy stops directly in front of you.

Andy: “You’re in one of our safehouses. No one knows you’re here but us.”

She meets your eyes steadily.

Andy: “This is the part where you decide whether you’re a problem… or just a witness.”

The room is silent except for the hum of electricity and your own breathing.

You are surrounded by soldiers who cannot die— and you are very, very human.

Location: Old Guard Safehouse – Operations Floor.